


I'll Tell You A Tale of a Pirate Queen

by PostApocolypticAlien



Category: The X-Files
Genre: 18th Century, F/M, Historical AU, Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-21 21:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostApocolypticAlien/pseuds/PostApocolypticAlien
Summary: A tale of a Pirate Queen
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to continue and complete this one. Can't say when the next chapters will come as I want to write some more before I post. Hope you enjoy :)

She pulls out the tie, shakes out her hair, the wind blowing freely through the strands, tangling the red curls around each other. Her mother would be grabbing the hairbrush and telling her to sit.

But Mother isn’t here right now. Nobody is. Dana can hear chatter behind her, the occasional yell, but she is oblivious to it all. Just the wind in her ears and against her face, her eyes shut as she inhales the salty air.

This was where she belonged, without any rhyme or reason, sailing along the sea, bringing goods to other cities and countries. It just felt right to be here. It felt like home.

She grips the rope tighter, holding on as she adjusts her feet on the rails. One accidental step and she’s falling into the water below, it doesn’t scare her, though. Since she was eight years old, she had been climbing the railings such to everyone’s concern, but not once has she fell off. She even got brave enough to close her eyes and fly.

When she reopens them, her heart sinks a little at the sight of Charles Town Port coming into view. That was it, the adventure was over. It could be months, maybe even years, till she got to come along again.

Being on land, trapped in that house could be tortured some days. Dana couldn’t wait till she was free, until she could sail a ship of her own.

“You need to get down Dana,” she hears Billy, her brother, say to her. “Pa said we’re docking soon.”

His footsteps grow quieter the further he walks away. Dana takes one good look at the water, says her goodbyes, and climbs down. She gathers her hair into a low ponytail and places her very own cocked-hat on her head, and runs towards the cabin.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

“Can’t I come with you?”

Bags packed, ready to leave any moment, 11 year old Dana sits on the second to last stair watching as her father is about to set off to sea without her.

Her father kneels at the base of the stairs while her mother looks on. He places a hand atop of her clasped ones.

“I wish you could,” he tells her sincerely. “But the journey is too long. Even Billy isn’t going.”

Her brother is also with them, standing off to the side. His grunt tells her he is just as displeased with this arrangement as she is.

Dana pouts and looks towards the floor. It had been almost a year since her last trip, she was itching to go on another one.

“You’re going to miss my birthday.” The trip would last months, an order to be delivered to Spain.

“I will,” her father tells her, guilt laced in his voice. One of many birthdays missed. “But I promise I’ll bring you something back, okay?”

It would have to suffice. Her father had brought many things back with him for various missed birthdays, each gift different and better than the last, though her favourite was the snow globe he brought back from France. The thought of what he would bring her this time gives her a spark of excitement. A smile spreads across her face despite her disappointment. Dana nods.

“Good.” He flicks her nose and she giggles before launching herself into his arms. “I’ll miss you Ahab,” she says into his shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too, Starbuck.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

On March 7th, there are no presents. There is no father.

Coldness drifts its way through the house, silence following in it’s steps. Soon, her mother’s cries taken silence’s place as it drags through the rooms of the house. March 7th is a cold and harsh day.

Sorrow turns itself into rage, rips through her tiny body as she claws at her bedding and curtains, barrels drawers over, launches objects off her shelves with her arm, they come crashing to the ground.

Her room is a mess and Dana falls against the wall, her hands covering her face as sobs tear themselves out of her, grief pouring out of her.

In the centre of it all lies the snow globe. It catches her eyes and Dana crawls towards it. It’s partially cracked but mostly intact. A ship riding the waves of an ocean. She closes her eyes and holds the globe to her body, flopping down onto the heap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Billy takes over the orders, becomes Captain of _The Lassie_.

Dana knew that the death of her father meant no more trips, that for the next six or so years, she would never be able to set foot on one. Just as her father was taken before her far too soon, Dana hadn’t wanted that same thing to happen.

On the day Billy was set to make his first orders as Captain, Dana had come barrelling down the stairs, desperate to tag along one last time.

Dressed in her pants, her hair tied back, the disguise she always wore, she begged her brother to let her come along.

“You take up too much space,” her brother had told her.

Dana had shook her head. “I’ll stay out of the way, please.” Desperation in her voice and on her face, she needed to ride the sea. “Pa always let me, regardless.”

“Aye,” says Billy. “And Pa could’ve got in a lot of trouble, like I can now. Besides, girls bring bad luck and I don’t think we want anymore of that.” He goes to grab his bags, to leave her behind. Dana’s heart sinks. Just one last trip…

Billy stops before he leaves, his head against the doorframe and a loud sigh exiting his mouth. He looks towards his sister who fights to keep the tears from her eyes.

“This is the last one.”

A smile spreads across her lips, tears turning into joy.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Dana would capture the smell of the sea in a bottle if she could, would place it on the shelf. The sea killed her father but it was still home regardless of its danger.

This trip was her last trip, and was treated as such. She arrived home, a clearer memory of the water in her mind, a smile on her face.

Her sailing clothes are taken from her, locked with a chest in her mother’s room. She keeps her hat, however, hides it at the back of her closet but the day she can take it out and wear it again.

The next day, the corsets feels tighter, an anchor keeping her in place. Her hair is brushed until the tangles are free and it shines. The smell of the sea is nothing more than a distant memory. Dana becomes a vessel docked on the shore.


	2. Shame Can Be Suffocating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: attempted sexual assault, abuse, and infidelity? 
> 
> Kinda dead to the world rn so again, I have no idea if this is good or not. Also here be smut.

Words are being spoken to her but Dana is barely taking note of what is being said. A headache blooming in the centre of her forehead, she pinches the top of her nose, desperate for this day to be over.

“…And your brothers have given us half of what we ordered.”

It’s takes her a moment to realise that the complaining has stopped. She moves her hand away from her face and, in the kindest voice she can muster right now, tells the man standing in her office what he can do.

“You’ll have to take that up with my brothers, Mr Barrows. I just look at the lists and give you what I see.” She taps the list for Mr Barrows’ ship next to her, a smile stuck to her face. It just turns Mr Barrows’ face even more red than it already was.

“This is a scam,” he tells her, a fat and swollen finger pointed at her. “I’ll have everybody in Europe know what happens when you trade with this port.”

She thinks about slitting his throat with her letter opener she holds beneath the desk as she continues to smile.

“Aye, sir. Well, you have fun doing that. I’m sure they would love to hear what you have to say about us.”

Mr Barrows huffs, his arm dropping to his side as he turns on his heels to go. Dana watches him leave. She drops her smile as soon as he’s out of sight, rolling her eyes and throwing the letter opener onto the table.

She pushes away from the desk, standing near the window. The harbour is alive beneath her, people scurrying about as ships are loaded and unloaded. She rests her head on the wall, staring longingly at the scene below, wishing she could be apart of it, not up here listening to complaints.

They always blamed her for whatever goes wrong with an order. It’s never her brothers’, the ones who make all the decisions. Though Dana is aware that the business is sketchy, that her brothers’ promise more than they can offer but there is nothing she can do about it, she just gives and receives the money based on the lists her brothers’ hand her.

Still though, she can’t complain, this is the closest she’ll come to ships and the sea now.

A knock on her door and Dana sighs. She pulls at her clothes which have become more uncomfortable as the day worn on and prepares herself for her next complaint.

“Come in,” she says, not caring to mask how tired she feels.

“I haven’t come at a bad time, I hope.”

Dana turns away from the window at the sound of her clients voice. He’s much younger than the ones who usually step through her door, no older than her she suspects. There’s something familiar about him too though she can’t quite place it.

“Let me guess, your order is wrong, too?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“No, no,” he answers, looking confused for a moment. “We actually brought in the order. I was sent up here by Charlie Scully to get the payment.”

She feels her heats warm and quickly uncrosses her arms, headed straight for the desk.

“Right,” she says, starting to sift through the papers that cover her desk. “Name?”

“Mulder.”

Dana pauses, unable to stop the smile spreading across her lips. Is he new at this, she wonders?

“The name of the ship, Mulder,” she asks looking up at him.

Mulder lets out a nervous laugh. “Right, um…she’s called The Emerald.”

He’s staring at her and they keep eye contact for a moment. She can see in his eyes he seems to be searching for something, recalling something.

Dana looks away resuming her task, her fingers hurrying through the papers finding the one with his ship’s name on it.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” says Mulder.

All she can say is he looks familiar. Dana shakes her head.

“My family traded with your father. We stayed over one time. I was about nine years old at the time, I think.”

Slowly it comes back to her, why he looks so familiar. She remembers multiple buckets and a boy bedridden.

“I remember now,” she says nodding. “You got really bad seasickness.” She looks him up and down now, much older than the small boy on the bed, now dressed in his English sailing uniform. “Looks like that’s changed.”

Mulder looks at himself and laughs. “Yeah,” he agrees. “I remember you, too. I mean, everyone thought you were a boy, some little sailor lad. You did dress like one.”

It was Dana’s turn to let out a nervous laugh this time. She looks towards the floor. Dana Scully; the unofficial third son to William Scully. A common misconception made by almost everyone.

“You don’t make that mistake now, do you?” she notes, feeling her corset begin to dig into her side, her skirts heavy against her legs.

“No, I don’t,” he chuckles.

Dana swallows, her eyes going back to the lists. She finds the one she needs.

“Here we are- The Emerald.” She hands the paper towards him. “Fifty shillings for the trade, sir.”

Mulder fishes in his bag for the pouch and hands it to her. She tucks it away along with the other pouches.

“Any problems, take it up with your brothers?” Mulder says with a slight smile.

She reciprocates the smile. “They know more than me,” she says with a shrug.

He nods. “Well, have a good day, Miss Scully.”

“You too, Mr Mulder.”

She’s about to sit down at her desk when the sound of his footsteps stops.

“You’re not doing anything later, are you?”

She is but she doubts she’ll be missed much.

“I’m not, no.”

“We’re staying over the night before leaving. Can I buy you a drink?”

Dana leads forward, feeling her stomach swirl with something she can only akin to excitement.

A smile forming, she nods. “Yes, you can.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

A tavern on the harbour, the place where all the sailors went to drink. Mulder claims it’s the only one he knew of, not that Dana minds all that much, she likes it here, likes the atmosphere.

Most of the patrons are already drunk and a brawl has broken out near the back. The sound of a glass smashing has Dana’s attention diverted to the noise. She watches, laughing, as two men fight, punching and shoving. One of the men she recognises is the lovely Mr Barrows from earlier. She turns back to Mulder, spying a guilty look on his face behind his pint.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he says, wiping the beer foam from his mouth. “It’s not the place for you.”

Dana grabs her own pint, downing a good gulp of it much to Mulder’s surprise earlier. The mug is almost empty when she puts it back down.

“And where is the place I should be, Mulder, the kitchens?” She leans forward, a mischievous smile and glint in her eyes. “Or your bed?”

She watches him swallow nervously. “Aren’t you married?”

The playfulness falls away at the mention of her pathetic husband. Dana would rather pretend he didn’t exist then engage in conversation which counteracted that preference.

“Aye, I am,” Dana says sitting of it. Her eyes narrow. “What of it?”

He’s intrigued now and as she leans back he leans forward. “And what is he does? Does he trade to?”

If only he did, Dana thinks wistfully, maybe she would be a step closer to the sea.

“He’s a lawyer.”

“A lawyer!” Mulder smiles gleefully. “Wow.”

“Aye.” She wasn’t liking this conversation much. “It was my brother’s idea, in case they got in any trouble with the trades. My mother thought it was a fantastic idea, see if it would rid the reputation and rumours around me.”

Mulder’s eyebrows perk upwards. Immediately, Dana regrets mentioning anything. She knows his question before he even needs ask it.

“What reputation and rumours are they?”

She looks around the bar. Nobody is paying attention to them, nobody even knows there here. She grows sombre, doesn’t meet his eyes as she stares at a spec of dirt on the wood floor.

“I stopped him before he put his cock in me but nobody believed me.” She plays with a piece of material that had frayed on her dress. “Somehow, the story that he did was spread around and suddenly nobody wanted me.” Her mind wanders as she mindlessly pulls at her dress. It was the third anniversary of her father’s death and Dana hadn’t wanted to be in the house, the grief pouring from her mother that day had been too overwhelming. But she had wandered too far from the safety of her home and the memory of her father. She was lost and alone, her chest hurting, trying, and failing to retrace her steps. She remembers being dragged down an alley, her head painfully hitting the wall, the smell of fish. Most of all, she remembers the blood. So much blood pouring from his neck, all over her. She kicked his body off her and ran, ran to the nearest person she could find, distraught and terrified.

Did they start the story, she wonders.

Dana…

The carriage took her home that night, her mother helped her wash the blood off, burn her clothes.

Dana…

It hadn’t sank in, what she had done, nor what the man had tried to do, not until a few weeks later, her body whacked with sobs.

“Dana!”

The tavern, the music, and the chatter, all of it reappears. Dana is momentarily dazed, lost as to where she is. She meets Mulder’s eyes, sympathetic and full of sorrow.

“I’m sorry they didn’t believe you.”

She smiles sadly and exhales slowly. “You know, sometimes my mother’s shame can really suffocate you.”

Mulder nods. “I know.” For a moment, Dana thinks she sees some real understanding, real empathy, in his eyes.

“So,” he continues, that look falling away. “This lawyer. How did he come about?”

“Trading wasn’t what it was ten years ago. Half the stuff isn’t being delivered because boats keep getting caught in your stupid war with the Spanish. My brothers have had to cut a lot of corners but they weren’t about to get into trouble with the law so they hired Ethan to advise them.”

“Okay, I think I’m following,” Mulder says slowly. “So, where do you come into this?”

Dana drinks the last of her beer, hails the waitress to get her another, while she waits, she continues with her story.

“See, I was a late bloomer. Most of the girls my age were already married with a baby or two on the way. Nobody wanted me but my mother was desperate, she’d take any option that came her way.” The beer is placed on the table, along with another for Mulder despite him having not finished his first.

“Ethan said no, originally but my brothers got enough alcohol in him that he finally said yes and two weeks later, we were married.”

These stories just seemed to pour out of her. Dana wasn’t sure if it was just her slightly intoxicated brain or maybe because it felt like Mulder was listening, really listening to her, really understanding. It felt nice.

“You don’t sound happy,” he observes and all Dana can do is let out a laugh.

“No,” she says honestly. “I’m not happy, Mulder. I don’t think I have been for a long time.”

Mulder nods, frowning in thought. “What would make you happy, Dana?”

Off its own accord, her head turns to look out the window, to the harbour and the ships docked and the sea, waves rolling.

“Out there,” she says, nodding towards the sea. “Sailing.” She smiles wistfully, a dream she tucked away many years ago. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

Sometimes she felt anchored to the shore, tied to the harbour. A ship with no sails.

“Come with me,” he’s saying and it takes a moment for Dana to realise it. “When I leave tomorrow, come with me.”

Has he gone mad? She can’t just up and leave.

But she sees what he’s trying to do and cocks her head to the side, a thankful smile flittering across her lips even as she tells him.

“Don’t be stupid, Mulder.”

He smiles himself, as if it was meant to be a stupid suggestion after all, the matter put to rest.

“If you won’t come with me, will you at least let me show you something?”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Beers discarded, it doesn’t take long for Dana to realise where she is being taken. At the bottom end of the harbour sits a ship, The Emerald, Mulder’s ship. He jumps onboard, moving his arm in a welcoming gesture.

Dana is stunned, stuck in place just at the walkway.

“Mulder, I…” She looks at the ship, at her dream right there in front of her. She shakes her head. “I’m bad luck.”

“Esme’s got you covered,” he gestures to the bow where there’s no doubt a statute of a woman with her breast bared sits. “Come on.” His hand now out towards her, Dana looks at it, her stomach swirling at the thought. It’s been years since she stepped foot on a ship.

But what harm could it do? It’s a bit of fun before he leaves.

Dana sucks in a breath and takes his hand, allowing Mulder to help her up the walkway.

The ship isn’t even going anywhere and already she is giddy, smiling like a little girl. She runs towards the figurehead, resists the urge to climb up like she would do when she was ten years old. Instead, her hand soothes along the polished mahogany.

“She’s beautiful,” Dana says.

“She is.”

She catches him looking at her and blushes, unsure whether he was talking about her or the ship.

Probably the ship, idiot.

“Let me show you the best part.”

She takes his hand again, letting him guide them. Together, they make their way up the stairs, towards the wheel. Mulder let’s go of her hand to hold the wheel himself. Dana leans against the rail, watching and laughing as he pretends to steer the ship. When he finishes, he turns his body towards her.

“Your turn.”

Eyes wide, her throat dry, Dana pulls herself away from the railing. She grabs hold of the wheel with one hand, then the other, standing in Mulder’s place, the sea out before her is the only thing she can see. She’s the captain steering her ship.

Before she knows it, her cheeks are wet. A life she’ll never get to have. It was both a blessing and cruel for Mulder to give her this.

She feels his finger against her cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, confused.

Dana sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I’ll never get to have this. Ever.” The admission makes her cry harder.

“Oh baby, you will.” He stands behind her, his body pressed up against hers. She lets herself fall against him, her eyes shutting, wanting to stay here forever.

His nose nuzzles through her hair, finding her ear, whispering.

“You’re a ship made for sailing, sunshine.”

She lets out a laugh because she is. She really, really is.

Eyes reopening, she peers up at him through her lashes.

“Mulder,” she says, swallowing, her stomach knotting in both fear and excitement.

“Yes?”

“Would you like it sinful if I said I wanted to kiss you right now?”

His eyes are dark and heavy.

“No,” he says.

“Even though I’m married to somebody else?”

“I don’t care.”

His hands in her hair, his mouth claims hers, tongue quickly trying to worm its way to hers. She lets it, opening her mouth to him, allowing their tongues to play and explore. Without breaking the kiss, he turns her around, presses her up against the wheel. Feeling his hardness against her, a thrill runs through her spine, pooling into her own desire in her womb. She’s having him, she decides. Tonight, right now.

“Mulder,” she says against her lips when they pull away for air. “Take me inside.”

His arms wrap around the back of her thighs. She squeals when he picks her up, arms and legs wrapping around his neck and waist as he spins and carries her down the steps and through the doors of what she knows is the captain’s cabin.

She doesn’t get a look at this room, too preoccupied with Mulder and his lips and his tongue doing wondrous things to her neck.

She is placed down on the nearest surface, a table, but Dana doesn’t care, the floor would suffice if there was no furniture available, all she cares about is him.

Her hands get to work the moment she is placed down, stripping him of his shirt and starting on his belt. Mulder’s hands fumble with her laces.

“I fucking hate this shit,” he groans, tugging on the lace which only succeeds in creating a giant knot. He reaches for the dagger, left by someone on the table earlier, and takes it to her bodice, pulling upwards and cutting the laces altogether.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says and all Dana can do is laugh, happy to be rid of the thing.

He discards the material and dagger to the side, starting on her shift and ripping it down the middle, exposing her breasts to him. He reaches up, pinches and circles her nipples with his thumb. It’s distracting, makes her cunt clench with need but she focuses on her task, rids the belt, undoes his laces (without the need to rip them) and he’s pulling his pants down, thrusting inside her in one go.

Dana cries out at the feel of him, larger and longer than Ethan is- the few times he’d been able to get it up and stay up long enough for her to feel anything- each thrust stretching her deliciously, the right amount of pain and pleasure.

His mouth is at it again, trailing down her skin towards her breasts. He takes one into his mouth, swirls the nipple with his tongue, gently bites it with his teeth. Sparks shoot through her, all the way to her stomach, growing heavier and heavier as her need builds up.

Mulder comes back up, towering over her, leaning over her. One hand around his neck, the other supporting her weight as she’s tipped, almost flat on the table. Her hips speed up, approaching that high faster and faster. He pounds into her, close himself. Groans and moans filling the room.

“What more do you need?” he asks, voice straining against the excursion.

“Fingers, please.” Her eyes are shut, laying down, the table rocks beneath them, objects falling off onto the carpet below.

Mulder spits on two fingers, brings them to her nub and begins rotating fast.

Dana cries out, feeling the burst of pleasure bloom, holding onto him harder than before.

Two more thrusts and she shatters around him, muscles clenching, taking him deeper while she is motionless.

Two hands grab her hips, dragging her to the edge, fucks her harder, chasing his own release.

“Where can I come?” he asks.

Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to say her stomach but her orgasm-Mulder-filled brain isn’t working as well as it usually does.

“In me,” she whispers.

One last thrust and he comes, spurting into her, his come filling her up. Dana smiles, a wonderful sensation burning through her as she lies there spent, breathing heavily.

And Mulder, his chest heaving, falls against her stomach, still inside her. Her hands wander up to play in his hair.

“That was…” she begins, unable to find the words to describe it.

“Incredible,” Mulder says against her stomach. He grows soft, slipping out of her. He presses a kiss to her stomach and stands. Dana sits up, closing her legs and feeling his come leak out of her.

“I’ll get you a cloth, hang on,” Mulder tells her. He turns his back to her and when he does, she sees them: scars, new and nasty, adorning his back. Shocked, disgusted and slightly repulsed, she has no other response than to gasp.

“Mulder, what happened?”

She hadn’t noticed it before. Or maybe she’d been too occupied fucking him.

He knows what she’s referring to and stops in his tracks. He shrugs as if the giant whipping scars are no more than a graze. “Sometimes sailing isn’t so wonderful.”

He disappears off to the privy leaving Dana to ponder what he just said. She had questions, he wasn’t going to get off so easily, not after all she told him.

When he renters the room, she’s questioning him.

“How did it happen?”

He passes her the cloth and she sets on cleaning herself up, listening.

“Sometimes my father’s shame can be really suffocating,” he says, repeating her words from earlier.

Dana stops what she’s doing. Repulsed once more at the thought.

“You’re father did that. Why?”

“I’m not the captain of this ship, Dana. My father is.” He pauses, thinking. “We’re not just merchants,” he tells her. “We are- were- privateers for King George, commissioned pirates sent to raid Spanish navy ships. My father loved it, got a kick out of torturing the crew on whatever ship we came across.” He pauses as if recalling a bad memory. She takes hold of his hand, soothing her thumb over his fingers. He comes back to her and she smiles, encouraging him to continue.

“Usually he would get Spender to do the torturing but this one time he wanted me to do it.” He shakes his head, looking disgusted at the thought. “I refused so he whipped me for it.” He looks around the room. “In this very room, actually. I brought you in here because I wanted to make better memories.” He smiles and she smiles back, her hand against his cheek. She stretches up, presses a kiss against his forehead. His eyes close, his hand reaching up to hold hers.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he says, his eyes reopening. “About you coming with me. I was being serious.”

Dana’s eyes widen. It still felt out of reach, not possible. It wasn’t possible.

“Mulder, I can’t—”

“You can really go back to your husband after that?”

For a second, she is speechless. Mouth open, words on her tongue. Her shuts her mouth, no she couldn’t go back.

“Three days. I’ll stay for three days. If you’re not here when we’re set to leave, I’ll know your answer.”

He picks up his shirt and heads out of the room. Dana stays where she is; a dressed ripped, another man’s come in her cunt, another man’s smell on her body and a life-altering decision on her mind.


	3. Up Her Anchor Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say really. Let me know what you think so far?

She’s distracted, everyone can see it; her mother and Charlie even going as far as to comment on it. She spends more time standing by the window than she does doing her job, watching the ship, making sure it was still there. The clock loudly ticking away, reminding her that each minute she spends thinking about this decision is a minute her deadline approaches closer. It should be a simple decision, really; go with him. Yet, something keeps her anchored down. Occasionally she’ll catch him walking along the dock, assisting other sailors with orders. The sight of him makes her chest ache with guilt and with hope. Sometimes, he’ll turn to look up at this window and when he does, Dana will hide behind the corner, questioning why she does that, questioning everything.

She wants to go with him but her dilemma returns when she thinks of her family. What would she tell them? What would she tell her mother? How would she tell them?

On the second day she closes shop early. Sits down on her desk and spends the next two hours writing, scribbling, and scrunching up paper.

A note. Left on the kitchen table and leave.

However, Dana struggles to find the right words. Besides, it wouldn’t take long for her brothers to jump in their ship and sail after her.

It’s closing time, when she gives up on leaving a note all together. She rises from her desk, back stiff and feeling lost and confused. She grabs her belongings, reminds herself she has one day left.

.:.:.:.:.:.

The bed shifts and creaks. Ethan stinks, the smell of brandy on his mouth and a woman’s perfume on his body. The scent combined is sickly and it makes Dana’s stomach turn.

He kicks her legs, accidentally, mutters a sorry and attempts to organise his limbs. Dana bites her cheek so as not to cry out.

Ethan manages to adjust him. He fits his body around hers. Her stomach clenches and twists as she feels his cock pressing against the top of her thighs. His mouth finds her shoulder and neck, wet and slobbery like a dog. Dana closes her eyes against the sensation.

“Dana,” Ethan croaks. His fingers in her hair, pulling a little too hard. “You ‘wake?”

She opens her eyes and breaths out slowly. She says nothing but she knows her breathing gives her away, there’s no point in lying.

“Aye,” she says. She rolls over, onto her back, knows what Ethan wants. He smiles, lobsided, moving his body on top of hers and she starts a bet with herself to see how long he will last this time.

While he sorts himself out, Dana thinks about her decision. Mulder leaves tomorrow in the evening, it’s her only chance to go with him otherwise she’s stuck here.

Ethan grunts, pushing into her and Dana feels herself barely containing her repulsion. She wants to kick him off her, resists the urge to.

If she goes with Mulder, this will stop.

She’s a ship made for sailing, is what Mulder told her and it was up to her to grab the wheel and sail herself out.

Ethan passes out above her, his body collapsing hard against her, cock still inside her. Motionless, Dana waits for his snores to start and when she does, she uses all her strength to haul him off her body. Ethan crashes against the bed, limbs splayed out in all manners of ways.

Her decision made: Dana was leaving.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Evening approaching, Dana hurries through the dock, slipping past workers on their way home. Dressed in nothing more than rags, her cocked-hat pointed down low, nobody pays any attention to her and most of all, nobody recognises her.

She looks up momentarily to see Bill and Charlie walking towards her. Happily chatting away about the day, most likely. Dana holds her breath, looks away at the ground as her brothers brush past her, none the wiser. She doesn’t think about how long it’ll take them to notice her absence.

She reaches the ship just in time. Men hurry along it, shouting orders at each other as they set to embark. Dana stares up at it in wonder, mesmerised like she was when she was eight watching her father’s crew set out to sail. It only solidifies her decision to leave.

At the dock, a black man, dressed in the same colours as Mulder, unwraps rope from around a pole. Dana approaches him, her voice deeper and her confidence unwavering yet she keeps her head down low.

The man pauses, looking at her out of the corner of his eyes.

“I want to see your captain,” she tells him.

A smirk breaks out across the man’s face as he yells up towards the ship.

“Oi, Mulder!”

When Mulder appears over the side of his ship, Dana feels her heart beat faster, a giant smile forming. The man motions to Dana and when Mulder looks her way, she lifts her hat, red curls slipping over her shoulders, and looks up towards him.

A big grin spreads across Mulder’s face. He makes his way to the bottom of the ship and Dana follows along the dock. She steps up onto the walkway but a hand halts her. Her eyes moving to the blockage, she finds hard, black eyes staring her down. Dana gulps, unsure what to do before she hears Mulder’s voice.

“It’s alright, Sam,” Mulder says, slapping a hand on the man’s back. “She’s allowed on.”

Sam moves his hand from her, silent and barely moving. She smiles out of fear towards the man who could probably snap her in half in one go.

A few other sailors eye her up as she climbs on board but Dana only has eyes for Mulder.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” he says, a smile stuck to his face.

“This is what I want,” is all she says. Her hands ache to touch him but his crew still watch on. She knits them together to distract herself from the feeling.

“Does Ethan know?”

She shakes her head, sighing, wonders briefly whether she should have told somebody. “Nobody does. I haven’t told a soul.”

His smile turns into an expression of thought before he nods. “Well, welcome aboard, Sailor Scully.” His hand out in a welcome, Scully shakes it, feeling a thrill run through her. “Elias will show you around, tell you what to do.” He nods off to the side of her and Dana turns to see the black man from earlier standing behind her. She smiles at him as Mulder walks over to him, whispers something in his ear.

“You got it,” says Elias. He turns to Dana, the light having not left his eyes. “You know how to hoist sails, Scully?”

Excitement courses through her. They were actually going to let her help, she was actually going to be one of the crew.

“I might,” she answers playing along.

“Let’s go then.”

She follows Elias towards the mast, chattering along with him and if Elias has any comment to make about her gender, he says nothing of it.

“Right, lads!” calls Mulder near the wheel. The crew go silent at once. “Say goodbye to Charles Town cause we’re about to sail home.”

Cheers erupt from the crew as they begin final preparations to leave.

“Where is home?” Dana asks.

“Nassau,” Elias answers. “The Republic of Pirates and a haven. Ready?”

She nods and he gives her the signal. Dana pulls hard on the rope with all her might watching as the sail rises above the others. Not before long, they are moving. Dana catches Mulder’s eye. He smiles and winks at her.

Home, she thinks, looking towards the figurehead. She was going home.

.:.:.:.:.:.

Their coupling is slow. Mulder lets her set the pace. Dana rises and falls against his shaft, hands braced on his shoulder while his fingers trail back and forth over her arms and down her waist.

Today had been exciting. And amazing and incredible but extraordinarily tiring. Dana had spent most of her time with Elias, pulling ropes, trying- and succeeding- to keep up with the men. Through the day, she caught they’re mutterings, whispers questioning what Mulder thinks he was doing letting a woman on board. Dana had held her tongue, got on with what she was told to do by Elias. It didn’t matter what the crew thought of her, she had any right to be here as they did.

“Don’t worry about them,” Elias had told her. A shift change had them on the Crow’s Nest which Dana was thankful for. Up here, they could talk without anyone overhearing them. Not to mention, people stopped looking at her.

“It’s just for this trip. Mulder’s father put us together. Once we get home, you won’t have to deal with them much.”

Dana hums. “I’ll just have to deal with the next lot.”

“Or…” said Elias, slowly. “We could dress you up as a lad and no one would be any wiser.”

A disguise that worked when she was ten years old, now she wasn’t so sure.

Mulder thrusts up into her, erupting inside of her. Dana closes her eyes, nuzzling against him, breathing in his smell, feeling content.

“I’m so glad you chose to come with me,” Mulder says. His arms wrap around her, securing her to his body.

“Me, too.” She’d never felt more happier, more free.

“Elias is nice. I like him,” she adds. “He also told me this crew wasn’t the permanent crew.”

“This is just the one my father set up. You’ll meet everyone else when we get to Nassau.”

Dana hums, almost ready to drift off to sleep.

“The crew didn’t give you any issues today, did they?”

She sleepily shakes her head. “Some mutters but Elias stayed with me for the whole day so it didn’t go beyond that.” She reopens her eyes and sits up. Mulder’s hands naturally fall to the top of her thighs. “He did make a suggestion earlier, though.” Mulder cocks his head, intrigued. “For the next trip, he suggested I pretend to be a man. Well…boy.”

Mulder nods, thinking it through in his head.

“Could work,” he says. “If you don’t mind it, of course.” She didn’t. “But you’ll have to keep a low profile when we get home, too.”

She nods, unable to keep the enormous smile at bay. It could work. Her dream was becoming possible.

“This is really happening?” she asks in awe.

Mulder nods, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“For as long as you want it to,” he tells her.

This was it, she was finally free. The anchor well and truly lifted, off she goes to sail.


	4. The Pardon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swapped the roles of Krycek and Spender around and also edited the chapter where I mention Krycek so if you're confused, reread that chapter and it'll make sense.
> 
> Comments are always welcome and will help a lot when it comes to the editing of these chapters.

She spots an island not too far ahead. Sailing straight for it, Dana begins to feel the excitement rise within her. She grabs the telescope and peers through it. The island isn’t much: a makeshift harbour, a few buildings, most huts.

“Is that it?” she asks Elias beside her.

“Yep,” he answers. “That’s Nassau. Were you expecting more?”

Dana looks through the telescope again, taking all the details in; the smoke rising from the buildings, the little dots she can only assume are people. The ragged, makeshift look of the place in general.

“It’s perfect,” she says, lowering the telescope.

Elias smiles. “I’m glad. Come on,” he nudges. “We need to help with the sails.”

.:.:.:.:.:.

When her feet touch Nassau’s harbour, she feels a sense of belonging, a sense of home. Her father told her stories about the island when she was younger, he told her how, after the war with Spain, privateers and sailors who had no employment made a home here, there base, free to come and go as they like. There were no laws here, no rules, they did as they liked. Crime was a way of life.

She remembers him painting this place as a horror story, but standing here in person now, this was paradise.

“Mulder!” she hears somebody shout. A man almost as tall as Mulder runs towards them.

Mulder smiles at the sight of the man, crying out his own.

“John!”

They hug in greeting.

“Glad you made it back safe,” says John. When he pulls away, his face grows sombre. “Uh…I have some news. Your father is here.”

The smile at the sight of his friend falls from Mulder’s face. Dana watches, her eyes falling to Mulder’s back, remembering the scars and who put them there. She goes to grab his hand in comfort then stops herself at the sight of the crew who still linger. Instead, Dana clenches her fists and falls back.

“Right, okay.” Mulder nods and throws a glance towards Dana before turning back to John. “Thanks for letting me know.”

John nods, turning back the way he came. The Emerald crew begin the follow until it’s just her, Mulder, and Elias left on the harbour.

“Is there a problem?” she asks once the others are out of earshot.

“No,” Mulder says though he doesn’t sound too certain about that. He pulls the hat down on her head a bit more, makes sure her hair is properly tucked away. He’s worried about something and it’s to do with her and his father. “Just…Stay low, like we said, okay?”

She nods, recognising the seriousness of whatever his father brought. “Okay.”

They move on away from the harbour, Mulder in front and Dana trailing behind. Elias passes ahead of Mulder.

“Told you not to think with your cock, mate,” the man says before he starts running ahead of them.

Mulder throws another glance to Dana and she smiles reassuringly at him though that sense of belonging slowly starts wilting away.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The tavern is loud and rowdy, the communal place of the whole island, the place where people seem to spend the most time.

Dana follows behind Mulder, almost hiding behind him. Nobody is paying attention to them and Dana feels herself relax slightly. She’s about to slip past him, to where Elias sits in the corner, when a man, an older version of Mulder, walks towards them.

“Fox,” the older man calls. “You’re six days late.” Hs voice is displeased.

“An…order kept me in Charleston for an extra three days,” Mulder lies.

Dana stays where she is.

“An order,” says Mr Mulder, sounding very sceptical. “Well, the Scullys are known for not delivering what they promise.”

Dana clenches her fists. She bites her tongue to stop her from defending her family, narrowing her eyes at the floor, repeating profanities in her head.

“What’s that behind you?” he asks.

Her eyes widen when she realises Mr Mulder is referring to her.

“Uh…” stutters Mulder. Dana keeps her eyes cast to the ground, silent. “William Scully’s third son, Father.”

“Really?” A hand reaches around her arm and Dana feels herself being yanked forward. She tries to not fall over her feet as Mr Mulder pulls her towards him. “Scully’s third son,” he says to her. Dana keeps her face away. “Look at me!” Mr Mulder commands, shaking her arm. Dana breathes, telling herself that they’ll just mistake her for a little boy, to please mistake her as a little boy. Her head moves up and she gets a good look at Mr Mulder. He smiles, menacingly, teeth baring.

“Captain Scully didn’t have a third son.” He knocks off her hat with his other hand. It falls to the floor, her long hair tumbles down revealing her true identity to the tavern. “And, if you need anymore proof!” His hands move to the material at her chest, ready to rip the shirt and expose her. Memories of this happening before sparks something within Dana. She reaches for his hands, securing herself and knees him in the groin hard.

Mr Mulder falls to the ground, momentarily freeing her.

“Spender!” the man yells.

A dagger finds its way pressed against her throat. A hand in her hair pulling hard. This Spender has her; arms locked in his hold, leg around hers. If Mr Mulder wanted to do something to her he could and she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Her jaw clenches in anger.

“Stupid cunt!” Mr Mulder yells as he stands but his attention is diverted away from Dana and instead he pounces on Mulder, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and holding him against the wall.

“You bring a woman onto my ship and think I wouldn’t know.”

She tries to break free of Spender’s grip on her but it only makes him press the knife harder into her throat. She breathes out sharply at the sting.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t let every man in this room fuck her till she bleeds?”

Dana’s eyes look around to the people in this room. They’re all paying attention now. She looks at Mulder, catching his eye. He smirks, despite the situation.

“She’d kill them all before they could even get their pants off.”

He smiles at her and Dana finds herself smiling back. A look around the room and she sees the men throwing cautious looks to each other.

Mr Mulder backs off Mulder though the man keeps his gaze on him. The room stays silent and tense as they wait to see what happens.

A punch to the gut has Mulder falling. Mr Mulder walks away.

“Let her go, Spender.”

Spender releases her and immediately Dana runs to Mulder. She brushes her hand through his hair and places her other one against his cheek. Dazed, he grins up at her, clutching his side.

“Welcome home, Dana.” He lets out a laugh and Dana finds herself laughing too.

The tavern goes back to normal; music plays, people chatter and drink like nothing happened.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

He winces when she presses down on his rib cage.

“Careful,” he grits.

“Sorry,” she answers. “You wanted me to check.” A small purple bruise is all that shows. Nothing broken. She stands up, pulling his shirt down. “Just a bruise. You’ll live.”

His hand reaches out to her neck, gently he runs his thumb over the small cut where Spender had dug his dagger into.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her.

She reaches for his hand, pulling it down between their bodies. “It’s just a scratch, it’ll heal in a couple of days. You won’t even remember it was there.”

Mulder hums. “So much for laying low.”

Dana cocks her eyebrows. “Nobody will want to sail with us, now.”

Mulder shrugs. “I pick my crew. If I want you to come along, nobody can say otherwise.” It’s her turn to hum. “Well, unless there’s a vote.”

She frowns. “A vote?”

Mulder nods. “If you don’t like something, you vote for a change. Whichever side gets the most votes wins. You can even vote for a new captain if you wanted to.”

And without being able to help it, Dana laughs at the asininity of it all.

“You’re telling me a bunch of outlaws have a democracy?”

He looks puzzled. “Yes. We’re at the shit end of the stick. We’re sick of being ignored. Here, every man is treated like an equal.”

Her laughter subsides, her hands play with the material of his clothes. “Man is equal but not a woman?”

Mulder sighs, pulling his hands away from her. “What does it matter?” he asks. “You get to sail right? Who cares if you’re a man or a woman?” He grabs her hands again, pulling her into him. “When they write about what we’ve done, you’ll be in there regardless. It doesn’t matter if you’re name is John, Jane, or fucking Queequeg.” She smiles a bit at that. “What matters if _you_ experienced it.”

Dana sighs, trying to see his point but it would just be one of those things he didn’t understand.

She smiles and nods, her lips descending on his as a way to halt this conversation. Mulder doesn’t stop her, eager his tongue already trying to gain access. Letting him, her breath turn into pants as her body starts to react. She pushes him back further onto the bed, hands hooking beneath his shirt to pull it upwards before tossing it behind her. His own hands starts on hers, untucking it from her waistband and pulling it off her.

His lips make a path down to her chest. Her head tips back and she lets out a moan, feeling his mouth suck in her nipple. He lets it go, starts undoing her laces of her pants and lets her carry on while he rids himself of his own pants.

Both naked, she gets ready to sink down onto him when Mulder stops her.

“Hang on, I want to try something.” He pushes against her thighs, trying to get her to move. Confused yet curious, Dana begins to make her way up his body, his hands not stopping they’re pushing until her sex is above her face.

She realises what he’s doing.

“You don’t need to do that,” she tells him, ready to lift herself off him. “I’m ready, Mulder.”

But Mulder’s hands keep her in place. “I want to, it’s okay.”

Cautiously, she stops her protests and situates herself comfortably above him. A finger brushes through her folds once, her hips move in time with his sweep.

The finger, now wet, joins the other hand on her hips. Dana holds herself above him, shaking with need. He pushes her down.

“I don’t want to suffocate you,” she tells him.

“It’s okay. Please.”

Hands on the bedframe, she lowers herself to his mouth.

His tongue sweeps through immediately. Quick and wet, breathing against her, Dana squirms above him. Her eyes close as he does it again and again. Slowly, she starts to rock in time with him. No one had ever done this, let alone offered to do it, before. It had always been a curiosity.

But she knows she won’t come from this. Even when his tongue swirls her nub, sucks it into his mouth and makes her cry out, it’s not enough to make her come.

Mulder realises and lifts her off him.

“You taste amazing,” he says, nuzzling against her arm. “Thank you.”

She smiles, looking down to where he’s grown fully hard. She touches him and he sucks in a breath.

“Do you want me to return the favour?”

He groans and she feels him throb against her hand.

“Not just yet,” he tells her. He rolls them so she’s the one on her back and positions himself at her entrance. He thrusts in and Dana sighs, allowing thoughts of today, thoughts of their earlier conversation falling away.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Morning comes in the form of a creaking door opening and a bright light invading its way into the room.

Dana wakes up, groggy and confused for a second. Her face against Mulder’s shoulder.

“Ever heard of knocking?” asks Mulder in an annoyed tone.

“Letter for you,” their intruder says. Spender comes into view and she pulls the covers up over her naked body.

“Piss off,” says Mulder, shutting the door on Spender. He picks up the letter thrown onto the floor. He pulls at the ribbon, reading over the letters, face frowning.

“What does it say?” She asks, sitting up.

“It’s a pardon,” he says, sounding confused. He sits down on the edge of the bed. Dana kneels up to peer over his shoulder.

“Those who turn themselves in will be given full amnesty from King George I,” she reads aloud. She looks at him. “What are you going to do?”

He scrunches the paper up and puts it in his pocket. Standing, he starts collecting his clothes.

“Get dressed,” he instructs. “We aren’t the only one who’ve gotten this.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The tavern is as full as it’s ever been. People talk over each other, voices mashing together, what they’re saying can barely be made out. They sound angry, though.

Upon entering the room, a barrel rolls across them. They turn to see Spender kicking and hitting tables and chairs, pissed about something.

“What’s up with him?” Mulder asks Elias.

“Your father took off,” Elias explains. “Went back to England to accept the pardon, left Spender behind.”

“Everyone’s heard then?”

“Notice arrived this morning. British want to reclaim the island, put an end to piracy. We’ve interfered with business too much, that’s what this is all about.”

Dana listens, watching as the men cause an uproar. She’s only just got here, now she was going to be sent away. It didn’t seem fair.

“Has Skinner said much?” asks Mulder.

“In so many words, he told us we brought this on ourselves. That we decided to start attacking English ships.”

“Skinner didn’t like that from the beginning. So, no strings attached?”

“That’s what it says on the tin. But we all know we’ll be barred from sailing, I’ll be enslaved, and your little lady will go back to America.”

Dana didn’t like the sound of that. That meant facing the consequences of her leaving.

“How many are against the pardon?”

“Fewer than you’d think.”

Dana pulls away, slipping out of the tavern unnoticed by all. She heads to the shore, sits on the sand, chin resting against her arms, watching the waves roll in.

Her first chance at freedom, to actually live the life she wanted to, and it was about to be snatched away from her at the mans of men.

Well, she was tired of men making all the decisions.

They didn’t have to hand themselves in, she could stay here with whoever was left. They weren’t taking her that easily.

“Hey.” She hears Mulder’s voice, his shadow casting over her. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.” He sits down next to her. Dana makes a hole in the sand with a rock, not looking his way. He sighs.

“Look, I’m not giving up, Dana. Not this life and certainly not on you, okay.”

She keeps at her task. “The pardon also said we’d be hanged if caught.”

“The same way we would’ve been hanged if caught yesterday. The pardon doesn’t mean shit, Scully.”

Dana sniffs, tossing the rock into the sea. “What’s the plan then? There doesn’t seem like we have many options.”

“I told Elias to gather the ones who want to stay at nightfall. We’ll accept the pardon—” She goes to protest and he shushes her with a finger to her lips. “We’ll accept the pardon and stay here for a bit. Not all pirates are here, some are out at sea, new ones are being recruited everyday and they all eventually come back here. They’ll accept the pardon but hopefully, with some time on our hands, we’ll be able to convince them otherwise.”

“Then what will happen?”

Mulder shrugs. “Find a new haven. One that, hopefully, the English haven’t claimed.”

It sounded better than going home. Dana frowns.

“Why didn’t Skinner want you going after the English?”

“Well, he believes we should only raid enemies of the Crown.”

I’m technically an enemy of the Crown, she thinks.

“And what do you think?” she asks instead.

Mulder smirks. “I think…a prize is a prize, doesn’t matter the flag she’s flying.”

He stands up, brushing the sand off his pants and holds a hand out to her.

“Come on,” he motions. “Let’s go back to the tavern. See how many people want to stay.”

She takes his hand, allowing him to help her up. This idea was insane but it sounded like it could work.


End file.
